


Thinking is Boring

by TheSopherfly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Developing Relationship, Dubious Science, First Kiss, M/M, Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSopherfly/pseuds/TheSopherfly
Summary: “I… I wanted to ask you somethin’.”“Alright. Shoot.”“Last night. Was that - were you flirting with me?”Tony felt his face flush, not in embarrassment so much as triumph.Yes.Finally, after weeks with no response, he had Bucky’s attention.~Quick fic for the Tony Stark Bingo.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 192
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Thinking is Boring

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the Tony Stark Bingo. Something short and silly - will be returning to longer fics and WIPs soon!
> 
> **Card Number:** 3117  
>  **Participant:** sopherfly  
>  **Title:** Thinking is Boring  
>  **Square Filled:** R2 - Faulty Programming  
>  **Ship:** Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes  
>  **Rating:** T  
>  **Warnings/Major Tags:** none  
>  **Summary:** Tony’s worried his over-the-top flirting may have gotten him into trouble. Turns out, it’s exactly the cue Bucky needed.

Tony glanced up when he heard the doors to the workshop swish open, pausing just long enough to smile at Bucky as he entered. Anyone who lived at Avengers Tower - which was what Tony preferred to call it nowadays, even though his name was still on the building - could come and go as they pleased, but he tended to get the same visitors. Bruce at the beginning of the week. Natasha at the end. Bucky on weekends, or sometimes in the evenings when Bucky couldn't sleep. Tony usually enjoyed Bucky's company. He'd come to expect it. But this time, for some reason, seeing Bucky put Tony on edge.

And then, with disturbing clarity, Tony remembered. He didn't want to see Bucky - in fact, he'd been avoiding Bucky for the last day. He’d been so wrapped up in his work that he’d forgotten. Last night. The party. The music, the gambling, the drinking, and the absolutely shameless _flirting._ Shit. Had it really only been eighteen hours since Tony had made a fool of himself trying to get into Bucky’s pants? Fuck.

_Oh, come on. You don’t actually regret it._

Tony did regret it. He did. But did he regret it because he’d made himself look stupid? Or did he regret it because it hadn’t _worked?_

“Hey, Bucky Bear,” he said in his best casual voice. “What’s up?”

“There’s somethin’ wrong with the arm.” Bucky rubbed his metal wrist, palm facing up. “D’you have time to look at it?”

No mention of last night. That was good. Tony was embarrassed enough without Bucky’s help. Still, part of him was disappointed - maybe even offended - that his most outrageous efforts had gone unacknowledged _._ Was Bucky really that obtuse? Or was he just not interested?

_If he weren’t interested, you’d think he’d say something and put you out of your misery._

Maybe Bucky didn’t know that Tony was miserable. And anyway, miserable was a strong word. Tony wasn’t miserable. Annoyed at being ignored, yes. Annoyed at not getting what he wanted, yes. But miserable? No. Not miserable at all.

“For you, always,” Tony said. He gestured toward the open chair, and Bucky sat down beside him, resting his metal arm on the work table. “What’s the problem?”

“Feels stiff. Like it doesn’t want me to move it.”

“Have you lost any range of motion?”

Bucky shook his head. “Just hard to move. Hurts sometimes.”

Tony pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Alright. As fun as it is poking around in there, let me run a few diagnostics first.” 

He stood and reached across the table for his Starkpad, then held it over Bucky’s forearm as he called up the internal controls. Huh. Nothing mechanically wrong, or at least, nothing that had triggered any kind of alert. He switched over to the second screen, and sure enough - multiple ‘system failures.’

“It’s not actually stuck,” Tony said, tapping in the quick command to access the system’s code. “Looks like a software issue.”

“Huh?”

“Faulty programming,” Tony explained. “Easy enough to fix.”

“There’s a computer in there?”

“Sort of. It’s the only way to regulate feedback. The way you feel texture and temperature and weight - the arm can't do that by itself.” A few minutes of focus was all it took - Tony was a genius, after all. With the bogus pieces of code rewritten and the previous settings reinstated, he closed out and set the Starkpad aside. “There you go. All done.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, moving his arm experimentally. He clenched and unclenched his fist, then made circles with his shoulder. 

“Does it feel okay?”

“Yeah.” He flexed and stretched, testing the flexibility. “Feels less stuck.” Bucky stood, but didn’t move to leave. He leaned back against the work table, sitting on the edge. He looked thoughtful, his face drawn into a frown.

“Something else bothering you?”

“I… I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

_Oh boy. Here we go._

“Alright. Shoot.”

“Last night. Was that - were you flirting with me?”

Tony felt his face flush, not in embarrassment so much as triumph. _Yes._ His behavior at the party hadn’t been so stupid after all. _Finally,_ after weeks with no response, he had Bucky’s attention.

“Yeah. Yeah, I was.” He held Bucky’s gaze, unwavering. “Why? You gonna do something about it?”

Bucky’s expression changed in an instant, and Tony was sure it was _interest_ sparkling in dark eyes. “Was thinkin’ about it.”

Damn. Bucky hadn’t taken long to get onboard. This was going to be _fun._

“Thinking is boring,” Tony quipped.

Bucky huffed at the accusation. “You do more thinkin’ than anybody I’ve ever met.”

“Which makes me an expert. Trust me. Boring.” Tony took a step closer, his fingertips resting lightly on the edge of the table next to Bucky's metal hand. “You know what’s not boring?”

“What?” Bucky asked, looking like he already knew.

“Being impulsive.” Tony took hold of the front of Bucky’s shirt and pulled, drawing him forward into a kiss. 

_Fucking finally._

“You’re right,” Bucky said when they parted for air, nose tracing the curve of Tony’s smile. “Not boring.”

Tony tugged at his shirt again, urging him forward into another kiss. “I told you so.”

~


End file.
